Chapter 1

Russia, Lorenzo mafia clan…

Her hands clammy, her limbs trembled underneath her tattered clothes. Why had he called her here? Her. Father, the Don of the Lorenzo Empire.

That look on his face said it all—he was disgusted by her mere presence. It had been 10 years since she had been in his direct line of sight and shared the same room with him.

The air was stiff, his eyes dug holes in her body, and then he stood up from his majestic chair. Each clatter of his shoe against the platinum ripped her heartstrings.

And then his voice—deep, eyes empty: “It has been a while, hasn’t it, Anna?”

Anna gulped, wishing she could disappear right then. He didn’t bother hiding it—the immense hatred in his eyes.

Anna nodded squeamishly, rubbing her sweaty hands at the sides of her skirt.

His eyes dulled. It had been barely five minutes, and he already wanted her far from his sight.

“You’re to get married to the first son of the Vincenzo Empire a week from now. That’s all.”

He waved his hand dismissively, as if the words he uttered just now were nothing. As eager as Anna had been to get as far away from him as possible, her feet were glued to the floor, unable to move.

Cold bit through her skin—not from the temperature, but from the odd wave of emotion that hit her. Married? How? She was nothing less than a servant in this empire—the adopted daughter who was treated like nothing but dirt—so how could she be getting married, and to the first son of the Vincenzo Empire? Oh God.

She saw nothing in the eyes of her father—no empathy, no sympathy in them. Instead, annoyance flickered in his eyes because she was still in his presence when he had dismissed her.

Her throat felt too dry to speak, and she fell on her knees, tears rushing out of her sea-blue eyes. “Father, I can’t get married, please reconsi—”

A heavy slap landed on her cheek, one that nearly sent her head rolling off her neck. All she sensed, smelt, and tasted was the metallic taste of her own blood—one that sealed her fate, marked that her life wasn’t hers to begin with. She didn’t have a say; she was nothing but a worthless item who could be used however her father and the empire saw fit.

………..Brooklyn Cafe, 6 p.m.

Anna shifted uncomfortably on her seat, patting her legs on the floor impatiently, and then he came. Her eyes lit up instantly.

He took in her usual appearance: dull woolen sweater and jean pants. He engulfed her in his arms.

“I came immediately I saw your text.” His green eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”

Anna clenched her fists, not wanting to lie to him. This was her lover, Rocco—her whole world revolved around him—but yet she had hidden her identity from him: the adopted daughter of Francesco Lorenzo, the most feared mafia Don in Russia. It’s for his own safety. He doesn’t need to know.

“Yes.” Her voice was tight, her teeth pressed on her lips to hold in her tears. She broke the hug, looking everywhere else but at him. She had told him she was a maid for a reputable family in town.

“I’m leaving town,” she broke the news. “I can’t see you anymore, Rocco.”

He was about to say something—probably ask why she had made her decision—before a loud gunshot was heard, and more followed. And odd to say, but the chaos that followed was the distraction she needed to slip away from his brooding questions.

…………..

Back in her room in the mafia clan, Anna stared at the wooden window in the slaves’ quarters. She was the Don’s daughter but forced to live the life of a slave.

The oldest maid in the clan, Philomena, stepped into the room. Her eyes were filled with great concern for her, Philomena was like a mother to her. Anna didn’t want to worry her with her problems, she assured her she was fine and Philomena eventually left her alone.

Her eyes were swollen with how much she had cried. She shivered, her heart twisting in her chest. Rocco—he had been nothing but kind to her, while she had been nothing but a liar.

She couldn’t involve Rocco in her mess, could she? Not when she knew she would be dead soon. The Lorenzo Empire and the Vincenzo Empire had been sworn enemies for decades. While the Lorenzo Empire was the most powerful mafia clan in Russia, the Vincenzo Empire was the strongest in the whole world. Lorenzo came second to Vincenzo.

The war between the two empires had been ongoing long before she was born, and now she was to marry into that same family that wanted to wipe out their whole clan.

She wouldn’t survive—she was being sent to die. She had been suffering since birth, and now she would die in the same misery.

Anna clenched her fists, her eyes hard. She could sit here and wait for death or…

Without a second thought, she packed the little items she had and fled the clan. She took the path of the dark alley, where no one would easily recognize her.

She would go to Rocco and convince him to move out of town with her. Her feet sharply halted when she heard a gunshot. Her heart raced. The stench of rusty iron filled the air; a sheen of sweat rolled down her back. The sudden urge to escape had made her forget all about her claustrophobia. She was surrounded by tall cemented walls.

She gasped, falling to her knees weakly, but she heard sudden footsteps. Using the rough walls as support, she hid behind a large wooden trash can.

The footsteps became louder, and then she saw the silhouette of a man in a black suit. She stretched her neck to peek carefully.

Her blood ran cold to see him dragging a man with stark gray hair, blood dripping from his shot leg. The man cried, struggling to break free from the strong grip.

“You little twart, you think you’ll get away with this?” he grunted.

A slow, sinister smile coiled on the other man’s lips. “How stupid of you to think you can talk trash about my mother just because you are my father’s favorite pet.” He flung his foot on the hard concrete ground.

Anna gulped. His demeanor—and how he wasn’t old like most mafias she had seen—he must be a mafia prince. She clutched the sides of her skirt, her hands turned clammy.

“Even you know my words weren’t false. Must be painful to know that you came to life just because she wanted a dollar,” the older man chuckled.

Anna took a good look at the older man, and she covered her mouth to hold back the gasp that nearly flew out. The consigliere of the Vincenzo Empire??? What was he doing in Russia?

Dear God, why had she stumbled upon this—tonight of all nights?

His fist flew right at the consigliere’s face, and the sickening sound of bone cracking followed. Another heavy blow followed, exerted by another. The man couldn’t take it. Her blood ran cold as she watched him go limp.

And just the way he had brought him in, the guy grabbed his ankle and dragged him out like that—like a ragged doll.

Anna waited for three minutes, and when she saw the coast was clear, she picked her things, ready to flee—when she felt someone grab her shoulders, slamming her back against the hard wall.

It was him. She trembled. She had thought he had left for good. Had he known she was there the whole time?

Her heart slammed at the thought of what he would do to her. Gray orbs, tall and large build, well-chiseled jaw—a typical handsome devil.

A slow smile curled on his lips. He slammed his hand behind her head; his other hand held her chin as their eyes locked.

He leaned closer, his cold breath fanned her neck. “Little girl,” he drawled, his voice as sinful as his personality. “How would you prefer to die?”